PS 3523 
.0855 
S7 
1922 
Copy 1 



THE 

Stick-Up 



BY 



PIERRE LOVING 




Stewart Kidd 

MODERN PLAYS 

EDITED BY 

FRANK SHAY 



Stewart Kidd Dramatic Anthologies 

CONTEMPORARY ONE-ACT PLAYS OF iqil 

AMERICAN 
Edited by Frank Shay 

THIS volume represents a careful and intelligent selection of 
the best Qie-act Plays written by Americans and produced 
by the Little Theatres in America during the season of 1911. 
They are representative of the best work of writers in this field 
and show the high level to which the art theatre has risen In 
America. 

The editor has brought to his task a love of the theatre and 
a knowledge of what is best through long association with the 
leading producing groups. 

The volume contains the repertoires of the leading Little 
Theatres, together with bibliographies of published plays and 
books on the theatre issued since January, 1920, 

Aside from its individual importance, the volume, together 
with Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays, will make up the 
most important collection of short plays published. 

In the Book are 
the following Plays by the following Authors 

Mirage George M. P. Baird 

xNapoieon's Barber Arthur Caesar 

Goat Alley Ernest Howard Culbertson 

Sweet and Twenty Floyd Deli 

Tickless Time Susan Glaspell and George Cram Cook 

The Hero of Santa Maria .... Kenneth Sawyer Goodman and 

Ben Hecht 

All Gummed Up Harry Wagstaff Gribble 

Thompson's Luck Harry Greenwood Grover 

Fata Deorum Carl W. Guske 

Pearl of Dawn Holland Hudson 

Finders-Keepers George Kelly 

Solomon's Song Harry Kemp 

Matinata Lawrence Langner 

The Conflict Clarice Vallette McCauley 

Two Slatterns and a King Edna St. Vincent Millay 

Thursday Evening Christopher Morley 

The Dreamy Kid Eugene O'Neill 

Forbidden Fruit George J. Smith 

Jezebel Dorothy Stockbridge 

Sir David Wears a Crown Stuart Walker 

iimo. Silk Cloth $ 3.7s 
H Turkey Morocco $10.00 



STEWART KIDD MODERN PLAYS 

Edited by Frank Shay 



THE STICK-UP 



The Stick-up 



A RougK'Nec/c Fantasy 



By 

PIERRE LOVING 




CINCINNATI 

STEWART KIDD COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY I *^ 

STEWART KIDD COMPANY /T) S{ 5 5* ^ '^ 




All rights reserved 



The professional and amateur stage rights to THE STICK-UP 

are strictly reserved by the author. Application for permission 

to produce this play should be made to Pierre Loving, in care of 

Stewart Kidd Company, Cincinnati, Ohio 



H0U16 72 



Printed in the United States of America 
The Caxton Press 



©CI.A686839 



PERSONS : 



I 



Cowcatcher 

Pete y Train Robbers 

Kid 



THE STICK-UP was originally produced by the 
Provincetown Players, New York, January 9, 1922 



THE STICK-UP 



Time: Eternity 

Place: Inside the Orbit of Uranos. 

The atmosphere is pervaded by fold on fold of 
mist-blue shadow. Blinking lights flash out now 
and again. There is a sense of wandering 
distance. 



Cowcatcher, Pete and Kid emerge, half stagger- 
ing, half lurching, out of the cloudy background, 
rubbing their eyes and clutching at space with the 
desperation of drowning men. 

Cowcatcher is tall, hulking, loose-limbed, with 
the broad brow and aquiline face of one who is 
much given to dreaming, on occasions to com- 
manding. Pete is short and stocky, and marvel- 
lously swift in his movements; his eyes are quick 
and restless and his hands seem always to be 
straying to touch something. Kid is thin, nervous, 
and ascetic in appearance. He is about twenty- 
three and by no means as small as his sobriquet 
would indicate, although he is not as tall as 
Cowcatcher. Cowcatcher and Pete wear riding 
boots, breeches, and woolen shirts. Kid wears 
wrap leggings, tweed breeches, and a black shirt; 
the latter is obviously a part of a clerical make-up, 
7 



THE STICK-UP 



KID {stumbling forward) 

Oh. . . . Oh. . I'm choking. Mercy, 
mercy, Lord! 

It's like a hand made out of hemp gripped 

Hard about my throat. {He coughs.) 
PETE {to Cowcatcher) 

Is that you, pardner? That you, Cowcatcher? 

I dreamed I heered your voice. Cowcatcher. 

We've swum clean out of it, I guess. 

At last! It had long fingers, cool and long, 

That nightmare had, like — curled wet smoke 

Only more thick. 
COWCATCHER {dazcd) 

Pete, where are you? 

PETE 

Here I am . . . here, old side-kick, 
And here's Kid too, all slick and sound, 
With mighty little of religion left 
In him, I'll bet. 

COWCATCHER 

Is this ? 

PETE 

Hell? 
KID {cringing) 
Lord, Lord, have mercy on us! {Kneeling^ 
I cried by reason of mine affliction 
Unto the Lord, and he heard me; 
Out of the belly of Hell cried I, 
And thou heardest my voice. . . . 

PETE 

My Gawd! He's got religion yet. 
It ain't enough he crammed his nut 
Full of that oily doctrine all his life 
To be a preacher, but he must harangue 



THE STICK-UP 



In this here place, and after all 
Wot's happened down below. . . . 
We ain't put in at Heaven or Hell, 
Not yet. But look at them clean stars! 

KID 

Pete, where are we? Cowcatcher.? 
COWCATCHER {with a drawl) 
I dunno as yet. It's queer. 
We're near the linin' side of worlds, I reckon. 
Put out your hand. {Kid obeys.) 
Feel anything? 

KID 

No, why? 

COWCATCHER 

There ain't no weather here, that's plain: 
No sun nor moon, no rain nor dew 
No freshness of mornin' air. 
PETE {putting his hand out incredulously) 
Wot's that? No weather here! 
How kin that be? 

COWCATCHER 

There just ain't. Make the best of it. 

PETE 

There's got to be some weather, pardner, 
Warm, cold, rain, snow, shine, or something. . 
Well, wot about this fog? 

COWCATCHER 

It's here all right, but kin you see it? 
It's always fingerin' your gorge 
But where, in Christ's name, is it? 
PETE {philosophically) 

There's space to budge in, ain't there now? 

9 



THE STICK-UP 



Well, if there's space to budge in, why. 
Things has to happen . . . weather has to 
happen. 

COWCATCHER 

Rot! Wot I want to find out bad 

Is wot we're doing here and how. . . . 

KID 

How'd we get here, Cowcatcher? 
When are we going home? 
PETE {laughs) 

Home? Ha! Ha! Ha! 

{His laughter is cut short by a swift-flying object 
sweeping past them.) 

KID {terror-stricken) 

Lord, have pity! {Kneeling) 

PETE 

Christ, wot a wopper! 
KID {almost absentmindedly) 

And the angel sounded and there fell 

A great star from Heaven burning. . . . 

COWCATCHER 

A flyin' star. 

KID 

Oh, Fm afraid. . . . 

PETE 

Slick bible-monger! Wot's he bawlin' at? 

He used to be gol-durned chipper once 

When he would turn his learnin' to a stick-up 

Or a can-openin* in a bank. {Kicking Kid) 

Wot's up, anyhow? 

The snifflin' sky-pilot's blue-scared 

Of bunkin' into God by chance 

While steerin' straight for Hell. 

lO 



THE STICK-UP 



KID 

No! No! Not Hell! 

Show us thy mercy, Lord. (Soi^s) 

If you believe in gentle Jesus. . . . 

PETE 

Too late! 

KID 

Pete, I don't want to die. 
PETE {ironically) 

No? 

KID 

God. . . . 

PETE 

You think that you are God's 
Own little brother, but you're not. 

KID 

He'll save me yet. 

PETE 

From wot. ... to wot? {Pause) 

COWCATCHER 

Where's your sand, your nerve? 

Wot's happened, anyway? 

You don't have to nag your brain to remember. 

You was once the finest stick-up 'prentice 

In six or seven states. 

Your bible dope was mighty in your favor 

And when you wanted to, you could look 

As innercent 

As any new-sheared lamb. 

Now don't you go and lose 

Your nerve, see, for our nerve 

Is all we got in this here game 

Of lootin' trains 

Or blowin' boxes. 

II 



THE STICK-UP 



PETE (to Kid) 

You're scared, maybe. 
That you're dead. 

KID 

Dead? 

COWCATCHER 

It might as well come out 
Right now as later: you are dead. 
KID {sobbing) 
No. No. The Lord will save me yet. 
It's in his sacred Word, I tell you. 
It says: I will redeem 
Them from the power of the grave. 
O Death, I will be thy plague; 

Grave, I will be thy destruction! 
PETE {troubled) 

Are we dead, pardner, honest ? 

KID 

How do you know we're dead? 

No one can die 

And afterward tell of it. 

COWCATCHER 

1 ain't quite sure about you two. 
You sort o' puzzle me. 

You bicker like corn stocks in the wind; 
Your minds are sort o' crazed and gropin'. 
But I'm dead, Pete. I know. 
I know because I ain't afraid 
Of death no more. 
PETE {spitting) 

Your brain is scrambled or. . . . 
I dunno .... somethin' worse. 
Suppose we ain't afeered o' Death 
Would that make us any more alive? 

12 



THE STICK-UP 



COWCATCHER 

Are you afeered, Pete? 
PETE {visibly shivering) 

Who? Me? Bah! You knows me, Cowcatcher. 

KID 

How did we die, Cowcatcher? 

PETE 

Maybe you . . . you're ahve, Kiddo, 
Because you ain't got guts enough 
To own up that we're dead. 

COWCATCHER 

I remember how we died. 

PETE 

You do! Well, how? {Pause) 

KID 

If you know, for God's sake, tell us. 

COWCATCHER 

Yes, I remember how it was. 

We was a-stickin' up 

A well-heeled train that raced 

Across great yellow miles of corn 

And wheatfields. 

I engineered most everything 

As I always done. 

Long before you two come in with me 

I wanted one big job — 

The job that comes but once in a man's life. 

The chance that I had figgered on 

Came with this here train. 

One hundred thousand sweet simoleons in gold 

Was aboard her. It was man-sized game. 

The biggest game till then. 

PETE 

I think I remember now. 
13 



THE STICK-UP 



COWCATCHER 

If we'd have got away with all that swag . . . . 
But wot's the use? We didn't. 

PETE 

Suppose we hadda got away with it? 

COWCATCHER 

It's this way, Pete. 

If we had blown with all that swag, 

(Sighs) . . . Oh, I was homesick for a farm 

I wanted to retire. 

PETE 

Retire? 

COWCATCHER 

Yes, Pete, on a farm or ranch, maybe. 

A ranch . . . that's it, and so go back 

To herdin' like I used to 

When I was knee-high to a grasshopper. 

You didn't know me then. 

I was — well — sorter strange and shy-like with 

people. 
Or that's the way 
They used to make me out. 
But the sheep would graze short grass about me; 
The little wooly lambs, familiar-like. 
Often they'd nose right in my pockets. 
Pete, this thing's in my blood 
And there's a million head o' maverick 
A-grazin' in my heart. 
To settle on a ranch — 
That's wot I wanted for to win 
Out of this game ... a ranch 
Wot I could call my own. 
With title and deed, both stamped 
Right through the paper by the Justice o' Peace. 
14 



THE STICK-UP 



No hidin' from the law this time, 
No posse, trackin' you down with dogs 
As knows your human smell. . . . 
No ... no. I wanted peace to fall 
Like evenin' around me and mine. 
I wanted to be the boss 
Of just a gang o' men 
That likes to work together 
And swap good yarns at evenin*, 
About a fire. ... I wanted this, 
But it wasn't to be. {Pause) 

PETE 

I beaded the engineer, didn't I? 

COWCATCHER 

It wasn't nobody's fault. 

I think the State Police was aboard and nailed 

us cold. . . . {Pause) 
Or somethin' hit us. 

PETE 

So this is dead? 

COWCATCHER 

Yes. 

KID 

Oh, something awful's going to happen! 

PETE 

Don't you go bawlin' all around the desert, 
You chicken-livered, buflf coyote! 
You must be still alive. 
KID {joyfully) 

You really think. . . . ? 

PETE 

Yes. 

KID 

Ah, God be thanked. Let's pray. 
15 



THE STICK-UP 



PETE 

To wot? 

KID 

To God in Heaven. 

PETE 

Wot's Heaven ? 

KID 

Why Heaven 

COWCATCHER (moodUy) 

Heaven's for the livin*, not the dead. 

KID 

It's a lie. Don't scripture tell . . . 

PETE 

Say, wot you got agin bein' dead? 

{Kid doesnt answer; his eyes are following some 
moving object in the distance^ 

KID 

Look! What's that? 
PETE {peering) 

Somethin' lit up strong. 

It's plungin' straight our way. 

Let's put our ears down to the rails 

And get her distance. {He does so.) 
COWCATCHER {laughing) 

We ain't on earth, old blowfire. 

This layout here 

Is twenty-six points 

South of the human mind, I guess. 

PETE 

You ain't gone nutty, pardner? 
Wot with the fog and firework stars 
And comets trailin' red-hot whiskers after 'em? 
i6 



THE STICK-UP 



KID 

Its headin' straight this way. 
What is it? 

•COWCATCHER 

I dunno. 

PETE 

Maybe it's a star with a souse. 

KID 

A star? 

COWCATCHER 

A star? No, I'll be blowed, 

It's the real thing: a sizzlin' comet. 

PETE 

With whiskers? 
COWCATCHER {wrapped in thought) 

Just wait. Suppose .... suppose. 

Why not? Why not? 
PETE {studying Cowcatcher s face) 

What's up. Cowcatcher? 

KID 

Oh, I'm afraid. 

PETE 

Shut up, you holy toad. 

COWCATCHER 

We got to try it anyway. 
It's only a scheme, 
But it wouldn't be half bad 
To think about when you is old. 
With sleep instead of blood 
Swimmin' through your veins. 

PETE 

A scheme! {Kicking Kid) A scheme! 
17 



THE STICK-UP 



COWCATCHER 

A man ain't no ways dead, Pete, 
If he can just keep on 
A-spawnin' schemes 
When he has died. 

PETE 

A big one, eh? 

COWCATCHER 

The biggest yet. 

You know, I always wanted one big scoop 

With a sure get-away. 

Not for the swag so much 

But just to finish a tough job 

With no fag ends left over. 

As clean as writin' with no blobs on it. 

It's come at last! 

PETE 

Here? Now? 

COWCATCHER 

I thought that it'd come 

In my life time. 

Somethin' was there that waited 

Smarter than you or me. . . . 

Somethin' that said ''Not yet." 

PETE 

You ain't gone bughouse, pardner? 
The fog ain't climbed inside your nut? 
COWCATCHER {in earnest low tones) 

The comet's tearin' straight this way. 

She ain't gonnta stop. Pete, you know that. 

PETE 

Well, wot of it? 

i8 



THE STICK-UP 



COWCATCHER {dipping his words) 

We got to make her stop. 

. . . . Kid, Pete, pals, we've hitched 

In this here game till all time 

Or the red flacker o' Hell's flames. 

You and me's gone through a lot, 

But here's our biggest haul to pull yet: 

We're going to hold up that there comet. 

Get ready, both, stand back ... no time to 
lose. 
KID {aghast) 

My God! 

PETE 

He's outer his head. 

COWCATCHER {quiverifig with emotion) 
Old pals, the victories we tortures 
From life is mean and picayune. 
Ah, this is better! 
In life we may put through 
A deal in pigs or lambs. 
Or play the red one day and win. 
But then we always loses in the end, 
'Cause there is somethin' we don't see 
That gathers in the pot. 
And if we sticks up trains 
As we has done these many years. 
The sharp-nosed bulls trails us across the hills 
And runs us down, maybe, outside 
The border bank where we has traded swag 
For greenbacks. Life . . . hfe . . bah! 
There ain't no swollen pots in life. 
A man's got to lose, come or go; 
The dice is always loaded. 
There's something ofl^-stage, strange and still, 

19 



THE STICK-UP 



I dunno wot ... it lurks around the turn. 

The kitty wins. 

I don't want money . . . never wanted it. 

Just let me clean my job up, 

Some job that robs the sleep from out your eyes, 

That shoots up easy church-goin' in your heart 

Unless you tackle it at once. 

PETE 

Plumb daffy! 

COWCATCHER 

Get ready now. Crouch low. FU give the 

signal. 
My six-shooter . . . when I fire 
You fall afoul of her. 
You fellows got to yoke it now . . . 
This time you can't afford to fail. 
Or your gray ghosts will be clean riddled through 
With lead. 

{He waves his gun drunkenly, Pete and Kid 
crouch^ afraid. The comet is heard approaching?) 

PETE {in a hoarse whisper) 
She's comin' nearer. 

KID 

She's giving off white fire; 
We won't be able to stand it. 

COWCATCHER 

Get ready now. 
{The roar increases?) 

KID {with a frightened yell) 

We'll be destroyed! We shan't do it! 
I tell you we shan't do it. Satan! 

no 



THE STICK-UP 



. {He hurls himself at Cowcatcher. Cowcatcher 
extends his hand and stops him. He seizes him 
by the shirt collar and dangles him cynically. 
At last he releases him.) 

COWCATCHER 

Muck! 

No more of this. 

Pete, get your tools out. 

{The roar is almost upon them. The atmosphere 
is forked by sudden flashes of blinding light.) 

PETE {hoarsely) 
All right. I'm with you, pardner! 

COWCATCHER 

At her! {He discharges his gun.) Hold tight! 
Hold tight! 

{Kid shrieks hysterically. A swift white light 
floods everything. There is a tremendous swish^ 
followed by stillness and utter darkness^ 

KID {unseen in the dark) 
Oh! Oh! Where are we? 

Where are we? Something awful must have 
happened. 

pete's voice 
Hell at last! 

Are you with us, Cowcatcher. {Pause) 
Speak up . . . speak up, if you are with us. 

{Pause) 
{Almost sobbing) Wot would we do and you 

not with us? 
Cowcatcher? 

21 



THE STICK-UP 



COWCATCHER {in a thin jar-away voice) 

Hold tight! Hold tight! We're aboard her. 

KID 

Thank God, he's with us yet. {Sobs brokenly ?j 

{A pale, doubtful light begins. It is but a faint 
suggestion of day light , but it grows increasingly 
brighter and resolves itself into an intense sap- 
phire blue. Then a hint of crimson and yellow 
and gold. 

Cowcatcher is discovered lying face downward 
at the foot of a tree, his arms flung tightly about 
the trunk. As daylight comes on, he turns slowly 
and looks up dazed. Pete is lying supine, a 
little to the right. He is mechanically clutching 
the grass and digging up sods with outstretched 
hands. Kid is curled up ... a little forward 
, . , in what appears almost an unhuman ball. 
In the soft background a wheatfield is gradually 
becoming visible, bickering in the wind of dawn. 
The sun is rising.) 

COWCATCHER {dazcd) 

I dunno ... is this a tree? 
PETE {lifting his head with apparent difficulty) 

Wheat! Wheat! Flower smells . . . {extend- 
ing his hands) 

The feel o' dew on the young grass! 

My God, I didn't know how much 

I itched to lay my hands on earthy things! 
KID {whining, not daring to look up) 

Where . . . where are we? 

PETE 

Look! Look! It's sun-up, as I live. 
It's flame-born, gloryin' sun-up! 

22 



THE STICK-UP 



COWCATCHER {bewildered) 

Tree . . . wheat . . . sun-up! 
Wot's it all mean ? 

PETE 

Wot does it mean ? Why this ... is ... is . . 

COWCATCHER 

Wot? 
PETE {in an awed whisper) 

Earth! 
KID {lifting his head for the first time, puzzled) 

Earth.? 

PETE 

Old sufferin' earth. It's earth, I tell you. 

KID 

Pete, you . . . you don't mean it. 

You're not just kiddin' me 

As you have always done . . . {Pleading) 

Pete . . . Pete! 
PETE {with emphasis) 

We's landed home. 
COWCATCHER {dimly realizing it) 

Home ! Home ! 

PETE 

That somethin' off-stage, you was speakin' of 

A while back, in that shiverin', empty place . . . 

That somethin' was smarter 

Than you or me, all right. 

It looks as if we'd held up earth. 

We didn't mean to, I know. 

But here we are: you, me, and Kid, 

Swirlin' through space on our birthplace star. 

COWCATCHER 

It was our biggest chance 
This side millennium. 

23 



THE STICK-UP 



PETE 

It was our biggest chance, you bet; 
But here's the smooth green touch of summer 
grass. 

COWCATCHER 

The wind is sharp. 

PETE 

The uptake of a human day is in it, pardner. 
COWCATCHER (bitterly) 

I don't want human days, 

For what are human days to me? 

I'm tired of peddlin' Httle jobs 

I want to hold up worlds! 

{Sadly) That's the teasin' way of it: 

It holds sky-wingin' will-o-the-wisps 

Before your eyes, then yanks 'em straight away. 

So wot you sees, 

And wot you don't see. 

Is nothin' but a blind. 
KID {on his knees) 

Cowcatcher, we're saved! 

To live, to be alive. . . . 

Why, that's the same as being saved. 
COWCATCHER {rising slowly) 

Wot's your religion. Kid? 

Wot's your wild hunger to touch things, Pete, 

Alongside the dream I dreamed! 

CURTAIN 



24 



Stewart Kidd Plays 

The PROVINCETOWN PLAYS 

Edited by GEORGE CRAM COOK and FRANK SHAY 
With a foreword by HUTCHINS HAPGOOD 

Containing the ten best plays produced by the Province- 
town Players, which are: 

"SUPPRESSED DESIRES", George Cram Cook and Susan Glaspell. 

"ARIA DA CAPO '. Edna St. Vincent Millay. 

"COCAINE'", Pendleton King. 

"NIGHT", James Oppenheim. 

"ENEMIES". Hutchins Hapgood and Neith Boyce. 

"THE ANGEL INTRUDES ". Floyd Dell. 

"BOUND EAST FOR CARDIFF", Eugene O'Neill. 

"THE WIDOWS VEIL", Alice Rostetter. 

"STRING OF THE SAMISEN", Rita Wellman. 

"NOT SMART", Wilbur D. Steele. 

Every author, with one exception, has a book or more to his credit. 
Several are at the top of their profession. 

Rita Wellman, a Saturday Evening Post star, has had two or three 
plays on Broadway, and has a new novel, "The Wings of Desire " 
Cook and Glaspell are well known — he for his novels, and Miss 
Glaswell for novels and plays. 

Edna Millay is one of America's best poets. Steele, according to 
O'Brien, is America's best short-story writer. 

Oppenheim has over a dozen novels, books of poems, and essays to 
his credit. 

O'Neill has a play on Broadway now: "The Emperor Jones." 
Hutch. Hapgood is an author of note. A record of the work of the 
most serious and important of all the new theatre movements in 
America. 
New York Sun: "Tense and vivid little dramas." 

Dallas News: "Uniform in excellence of workmanship, varied in sub- 
ject matter — the volume is a distinct contribution to American dra- 
matic art. 

121710. Net, $2.^0 



Send for Complete Dramatic Catalogue 

STEWART KIDD COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS CINCINNATI. V. S. A. 



______^_______^_______^_____^_^^_________ LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

Stewart Kidd Dramatic o 015 926 392 7 

The Truth About the Theater Anonymous $1.25 

British and American Drama of Today. . Barrett H. Clark 2.50 

European Theories of the Drama Barrett H. Clark 5.U0 

Contemporary French Dramatists Barrett H. Clark 2.50 

Four Plays of the Free Theater ... Barrett H. Clark 2.50 

The Provincetown Plays 

Geo. Cram Cook Sf Frank Shay, Editors 2.50 

Plays and Players Walter Prichard Eaton 3.00 

The Antigone of Sophocles. . Prof. Jos. Edward Harry 1.25 

The Changing Drama Archibald Henderson 2.50 

European Dramatists Archibald Henderson 3.00 

George Bernard Shaw: His Life and Works 

Archibald Henderson 7.50 

Short Plays Mary MacMillan 2.50 

More Short Plays Mary MacMillan 2.50 

Third Book of Short Plays Mary MacMillan 2.50 

The Gift Margaret Douglas Rogers 1.00 

Comedies of Words and Other Plays 

Arthur Schnitder, Translated by Pierre Loving 2.50 
Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays 

Compiled by Frank Shay & Pierre Loving 5.00 
Contemporary One- Act Plays of 1921 — American 

Edited by Frank Shay 3.75 

Five One- Act Comedies. Lawraice Langner 2,00 

Goat Alley Ernest Howard Ctdbertson 1.75 

Lucky Pehr August Strindberg 2.50 

Translated by Velma Swanston Howard 

Easter August Strindberg 2.50 

Translated by Vtlma Swanston Howard 

The Hamlet Problem and its Solution. EmersonV enable 1.50 

Portmanteau Plays Stuart Walker 2.50 

More Portmanteau Plays Stuart Walker 2.50 

Portmanteau Adaptations Stxiart Walker 2.50 

Three Plays: MADRi:rrA. at the shrink, sumo .. Stark Young 1.35 

Stewart Kidd Modern Plays 

Edited by Frank Shay 

Mansions Hildegarde Planner .50 

The Shepherd in the Distance Holland Hudson .50 

Hearts to Mend H. A. Overstreet .50 

Sham Frank G. Tompkins .50 

Six Who Pass While the Lentils Boil . . Stuart Walker .50 

The Emperor Jones Eugene O'Neill .50 

Sweet and Twenty Floyd Dell .50 

Two Slatterns and a King Edna St. Vincent Millay .50 

Sir David Wears a Crown Stuart Walker .50 

Thursday Evening Christopher Motley .50 

Mirage George M. P. Baird .50 

Lithuania Rupert Brooke .50 

The Stick-Up Pierre Loving .50 

Scrambled Eggs Mackall & Bellamy .50 

More to follow. 



